Devil May Cry: Inferno
by victor-cardigan
Summary: Dante is a freelance underground mercenary. What happens when an old mission comes back to haunt him. From the deserts of Africa to the streets of modern America, Dante will have to face Inferno.
1. Chapter 1

1. Valley of Fire

15 Years ago

Somewhere in Africa

The fast spinning blades above them blew a warm breeze into the chopper bay. It kept them relatively cool as they flew over the dry terrain underneath a scorching sun. The motley band of soldiers were cramped together in the small chamber and yet still managed to remain separate. Their egos didn't want to brush too close to one another. It was kind of like being in middle school. Everyone wants to be the cool loner type. So the group sat there and discreetly competed for the crown of coolness. Each one readied their various guns for the conflict ahead. It started with himself, Henry Todd. He checked and rechecked his Soviet AK47. Then he went to his CZ52. It was an uncommon gun, but he liked it. It looked cool. Polishing it, he was reminded of his first gun. He was five years old and growing in Texas. He loved the Lone Star state. It was the state where a man had the right to shoot trespassers after sundown. At least that's what his daddy always said. His first gun was a rubber band gun. At age five he learned how to kill with it. Of course it stared with small animals first. You blind them by knocking their eyes out. Then you can either finish them off or watch them bleed to death. Mother thought it was an unhealthy habit. She thought it was even unhealthier when he chose to stay with his father after she walked out on him. His father didn't really support him. The advantage was that he left him alone. He didn't bother him or take any interest in him. That continued until he got to high school. Circumstances finally forced his laissez faire attitude to end. It was then that Henry Todd, age 18 ended up in boot camp. It was there that he finally got a chance to do what he always loved most, run around and shoot shit. The military taught him well, but his real education began after his discharge and he entered the "commercial" field. He was a merc.

They were all mercs. Next to Todd was Grace. Sounds like a woman's name and it was. He carried the photo of a woman in his breast pocket everywhere he went, except the brothels. Who the woman is or why he carries it around was anyone's guess. The blonde certainly didn't look like him. He was tall with long red hair, probably had some Norwegian stock in him. His preferred choice was the KG-99, more commonly known as the TEC-9. Modified to be automatic he used it with a 500 drum magazine. It was like a modern day Tommy-gun.

Beside him was Stevie Wonder. Not THE Stevie Wonder. He was a former revolutionary in Cuba. When things went south on his island he went freelance. At least he tried. They caught him trying to leave and put him in prison for a while. He was beat up, tortured even. He was not a nice guy. He killed quite a few when he finally made his way out. He got out via a boat heading to Soviet Russia. From there he ended up in Afghanistan, on the wrong side. Not morally, merely that he got caught again. He was tortured some more and finally he killed a few more on his way out. Some people said he had a complex about being caught. Maybe he liked the challenge of escaping. Then again, maybe not. Everyone was left wondering why he stayed in the business. So the name Stevie Wonder caught on. A little after that he started wearing the dark shades.

Lean Jean spoke French, sounded French, and lived previously in France. Interestingly enough he wasn't French. He served in the Legion. Instead of taking advantage of his new French identity, he decided to make a name for himself as a soldier of fortune. He stuck with his M16. He said it brought him fond memories. Alternately he would use a French MAS-36, a holdover from his days in the Legion.

Last but not least was the odd looking fellow who was way ahead of them all in terms of coolness. His white hair and young features stood out like knife at a gunfight. Truly separated from the rest, he sat on the edge of the chopper bay with his legs dangling in the air. While all the rest of the bad ass looking mercs loaded, checked, and polished their guns, he sat there and stared into oblivion. His MP5 was slung over his back with his two most prized possessions holstered on his sides, Ebony and Ivory. His fellow mercs might have nicknamed him that if he hadn't said his name was Dante. With a name like that, who needed a nickname?

The chopper dropped them 20 clicks from the target. They made the rest of their trip on foot. The target itself was a village nestled into a low lying valley. Their mission, "relocate" the villagers. A nearby warlord is carving himself up part of the countryside. Part of his new plan is to use the area to construct a military base. Unfortunate for him, the villagers are hostile to the idea. They sent back a few heads as a warning. Unfortunate to the villagers, the warlord hired four of the meanest mercs he could find. He paid top dollar for a blood bath. Four men against a village? The odds were against the villagers. The warlord was generous, that can't be denied. Seeing that the village was a hold out of some kind of ancient religion, they were offered safe passage to Dumary Island. They turned down the offer. That was very unfortunate for the villagers.

In five minutes each one of them had placed an explosive in a nearby hut and reached their insertion points. The explosions were designed to scare them, distract them, and get them worrying about the fire spreading to the rest of the village. The four of them remained in hiding, waiting for a cluster of panicked villagers to gather round the different fires. Minutes passed, not a single person emerged. The fire had already spread beyond the first four huts they set ablaze. Todd noticed that Grace had left his hiding place and was searching a nearby hut. He mentally condemned the move but at the same time was ticked off that their plan wasn't working. In fact it seemed that the village was already dead. Lean Jean followed suit and also began to search huts. Finally he joined them. His first hut was empty, deserted. His second was just the same. His patience, what little he had, also deserted him.

"What the Fuck!" he yelled.

"Callate, asshole! Keep it down. These guys may be around here somewhere." Stevie said.

"If they were around here, they would already be shooting spears at us and trying to cut are heads off."

Lean Jean came up behind Todd and grabbed him by the collar. "What the hell is your problem? Keep your cool. We sweep the place. If we don't find anyone, we napalm the place and get out, as planned." The two exchanged glances, Todd shrugged and continued his sweep. "And where the fuck is Dante?" Jean muttered to himself.

Jean turned around and instinctively squeezed the trigger of his weapon as a figure that was not there before was suddenly behind him. His M16 punched 20 rounds into the man that had so silently approached him. Jean was instantly struck by the fact that the man was still standing. He took rapid steps backward and studied the man. He was dark, tall, and dressed scantly in native attire. His muscle built chest reflected all the bullet holes that Jean had made in it. However the fluidity of his movement as he walked forward betrayed any hint of pain that he should be feeling. The man stopped his approach and merely hunched forward slightly and opened his mouth as if to breath. Air was not the only thing that escaped. Jean fell to the ground as fire came pouring out of the man's mouth.

"Merde!" he yelled as the fire nearly consumed him.

Grace was inside a hut searching the interior when he heard the yell. He was walking towards the hut's single entrance when a woman walked in accompanied by a small child. The two spoke in unison, but Grace didn't understand their tongue. The fire that emerged with their breath was universal however. He fired his weapon into the wall of the hut and softened it as he jumped through it. He landed face down into the ground. When he looked up, he found himself at the feet of another native. Again he spoke, but Grace didn't wait for the fire to come, he ran and frantically searched for his comrades. He found them back to back in the center of the village. The missing villagers had appeared from nowhere and had corralled them together in one place.

"Grace!" Jean signaled. "Have you seen Dante?"

"No, these guys must have got him. What the hell are they?" he asked as he joined them.

The three stood with their back against each moving in a circle, not firing a shot. The villagers walked towards them but stopped a few feet away from them. A section of the crowd parted and a single figure came walking toward them. His figure was typical of all the males they had seen, however his skin color was drastically different from anything they had seen. It was dark, but a grey. His eyes were red and contrasted his skin color. The three trained their guns on him. The man repeated the same phrase they had all heard from the villagers.

"He's saying 'die insolent ones.' Cheesy, isn't it?"

The three suddenly looked up and saw Dante standing atop one of the unburned huts.

"Dante? Where have you been? And where the hell did you get that sword?" Todd yelled.

His guns were still holstered and his automatic was still over his shoulder. In his hand he held a large sword. Dante threw the sword and it cut through the air like a missile and imbedded itself into the grey man's chest. Ebony and Ivory in hand, Dante leapt off the hut and began shooting the villagers who had suddenly become active again.

"The villagers are already dead; you can pump them clean of conscious."

The three mercs needed no other incentive and began to fire their weapon. As the grey man struggled with the sword in his gut, the villagers seemed to have been relegated to mindless zombies. Fire no longer spewed from their breath. Dante joined the others in their incessant fire and attempted to clear a path to where he had left his sword. No longer alive, the villagers were no longer restricted to falling dead from a hail of bullets, they persevered. They seemed to only remain dead after being riddled to pieces. While not impossible, the mercs did not have an infinite supply of ammo, and the villagers were numerous. Todd noticed that Dante didn't seem to have a problem with ammo. In fact Dante failed to reload his weapon at any time. Mysteriously, he kept on shooting.

The grey man broke through the crowd of villagers and stood before Dante. "Remove this devil blade from me!"

"With pleasure," In a quick and seamless move, Dante grabbed his sword, pulled it out of the man and held it in a defensive stance. Instantly the grey man spewed a massive ball of fire which Dante's sword deflected. The fire however continued past him and began consuming the villagers and then the mercs. Dante glanced behind him as their bodies became engulfed in flames. They all screamed in pain. The smell of burnt flesh filled Dante's nostrils.

Lowering his sword, Dante addressed the grey man. "Well, if isn't Ctholmec, fire demon. I thought getting isolated tribal people to worship you would have been old hat by now. I guess it's true what they say about old dogs and new tricks."

"I will teach you to mock me, Halfling." Ctholmec laughed. "Oh yes, I can detect your half breed stench."

Dante shook his head. "You know you could have made it a little more challenging. You could have hid amongst the masses. Too bad taking possession of one of the humans slowly kills the skin pigments. Now you stand out in a crowd. Speaking of which, wiping all these villagers' souls was a real nasty thing to do. I might have made it painless. Now, it's going to hurt, bad."

Ctholmec's inhuman laughter began to echo throughout the valley. "Really, and what is a half-breed going to do to me?"

A smile crept across Dante's face. In a flash, his sword was once again digging itself into Ctholmec's chest. This time its point of entry was near the waist. Grasping the hilt with both hands, Dante pulled the sword upwards ripping the torso in half. Innards, ribs, and muscles slowly dripped off of a lizard like creature whose bottom half was still inside the flesh of its human host.

"When you get to hell, tell them Dante sent you."

The echo of shots firing reverberated once more in the valley. Then all was silent save for the flames that still raged among the remains of the village. Holstering his pistols, Dante surveyed the damage. As he walked away, ready to leave the village behind him, his foot struck something. Dante looked down and picked up a CZ52 pistol from the ground. It was hot from fires that had consumed its owner, Henry Todd, but Dante didn't feel it. He was half demon or half devil depending on your point of view. To him, fire was like water to humans. He bathed in it.


	2. Chapter 2

2. Evil People

Now, 15 years later

For the ninth time, Dante downed another bottle of his favorite brand of beer. While most people have a limit, he didn't. It took a lot to make Dante drunk.

"Sebastian, let's have another."

The bartender was a thin yet fit fellow. His aggressive features hid a pleasant personality. Hardly the type of guy who would run a bar called Evil People. The bar / discothèque / biker club was a nexus for all sorts of sub culture types. People who liked leather, pale skin and fangs, raving, dancing, and all the in betweens could find someone here to spend time with. Or the average customer like Dante can come for the discounted beer and stimulating conversation.

"Can you believe some jerk crashed into my front while back out of a parking!" Sebastian yelled over the upbeat electronic tempo. "I swear people must be bribing the DMV to get licenses."

"I hear you," Dante said, feigning listening.

"No insurance to top it off. I bought the car like three months ago. Bam! Makes me want to put a bullet in someone."

"You can always point me in the right direction," Dante said sympathetically. Turning he scanned the dance floor. A huge crowd of people moved, jumped, and gesticulated to rhythm of the music and alternately the flashing lights. As the lights would turn off, the glow of the luminescent sticks filled the dance floor. To the right of the bar, Dante eyed the jukebox. On nights like these, no one used it. Actually, no one really used it anymore. With his latest bottle in hand, he cut his way through the masses and stood before the anachronistic machine. His finger went down the list of song until finally he pressed the bright red button beside his selection. His ears tuned to the sound of the juke box's speakers, he heard the first bars of James Brown singing "It's A Man's, Man's, Man's World." Once more taking his spot at the bar, Dante took another sip from his beer.

"Hey there, Merc."

Dante glanced to his side. Someone new had sat themselves next to him on a bar stool. His sun-tanned features, auburn hair and Texan accent were unmistakable. Sitting there as if not a day had passed in fifteen years was Henry Todd. He was still dressed in the desert camouflage they had worn on the mission. Curiously missing was any indication that he had been burnt alive.

"Well, if it isn't Henry Todd. Funny, last time I saw you, I could have sworn you were French toast along with Lean Jean, Grace, and Stevie Wonder."

"Yeah?" he answered simply. Dante noticed the he was grinning, annoyingly. It was one of those grins that you had to hate. The kind that needs a good fist in the teeth.

"Aren't you the least bit curious how I got here?"

I think I can guess. You made a deal with the Devil to get your body back. The question is what your side of the bargain is?"

"Not bad. You seem to know all about me. How about I tell you a little about yourself," Todd slowly leaned forward and placed his lips by his ear. "Son of Sparda."

"So, they gave you an education besides a new face; it doesn't change the fact that you're still a lousy merc."

"I hear you're looking for a devil, one in particular. The one that took your mom and brother away." He once more placed himself by Dante's ear, "I know where he is."

Dante's fist struck him quicker than he could react. Todd fell to the floor in no time at all. Grabbing his collar, he started to drag him across the floor.

"Sebastian, I'm taking this one outside. It might get messy."

Todd's hand suddenly grabbed Dante's. "Why? We could have so much fun right here!"

A piercing heat forced Dante to release Todd. He looked at his hand in disbelief. His glove had practically turned to ash. "What the hell?" He watched as Todd got up from the floor, the grin still prominent on his face.

"Hey Dante, I hear Jerry Lewis playing, it's Great Balls of Fire!" In Todd's hand a sphere of pure flame formed and he threw it at Dante. Back flipping allowed Dante to avoid getting hit, but the floor was not so lucky. A wall of flame divided Dante from Todd. The crowd meanwhile had turned into a panic. From the holsters concealed under his crimson coat, Dante pulled his guns. Immediately he started firing upwards yelling at the top of his lungs. "Move out of here, now!" Sebastian on the other side followed suit as well as grabbing his shotgun from under the bar. As he exited with the crowd, the bartender took a shot at Todd. Dante jumped through the flames and unleashed his own barrage of fire. Todd ignored the barkeeper and maintained his focus on Dante. To Dante's surprise his bullets had no effect.

"Okay, Todd, I'm impressed. You just may be worth some effort."

"You haven't even scratched the surface yet devil man."

Once again Dante fired his weapons. This time he tried searching for a weak spot. None became apparent. His bullets seemingly stopped just short of hitting their target before disappearing.

"You can't shot what you can't reach. The ambient heat from body melts those pot shots of yours before they can even touch me!" Todd suddenly summoned more fireballs and unleashed them upon the ceiling and floor of the bar. "Is it hot in here or is just me?" His grin became a prelude to his equally obnoxious laughter.

The fires quickly consumed their surroundings and the ceiling caved in. Running through the flames and into the city streets outside became a gauntlet. When he finally did, Dante saw that the various crowds had left to the relative safety of their vehicles and were attempting to drive away. A massive explosion of fire heralded Todd's exit from the bar. As he did, the massive "Evil People" sign dropped behind him. "What's the matter, people? This party too hot for you?" he exclaimed as he threw flames at various cars and bikes.

"You son of a bitch! This is between you and me. Leave these people out of this!" Dante yelled. He rushed to a nearby car in flames and pulled an unconscious driver from within. The car exploded as he carried the man away. Elsewhere, Dante watched as a biker skidded sideways. The flames consuming him caused him to lose control. With his guns, Dante targeted a nearby fire hydrant and shot off its top off in order release the water inside. The water would serve as an option to people on fire and possibly douse the raging fire from the bar. Holstering his guns, Dante turned his attention back to Todd.

"All right Todd. You've gone and burnt down one of my favorite bars, you ruined a perfectly good set of gloves, and you've insulted Ebony and Ivory by not dying when I shoot at you. Now you're going to have to answer for it."

From a discreet slit in the back of his coat, Dante reached in and withdrew a large sword. Todd was familiar with the sword. He had seen it all those years ago, and he remembered well what it had done. It didn't alter his grin in the slightest.

"Ho ho ho, I remember that."

"Good, then you know what's coming."

"Actually, Dante, I do." Todd suddenly began to glow bright blue. The light was so strong; Dante used the sword to block it from his vision. Suddenly, it became very hot. When it hit Dante, he didn't know what it was. All he knew was that for the first time in his considerably long life, Dante felt his skin burn. The blast had sent Dante flying backwards and his head hit the ground first. He was light headed and his vision was blurred, but his senses were fine. He felt a hand pick him up from the street. A skull like face hovered before his eyes consumed in a bright blue flame. The skull had the same grin that Todd had.

"All those years ago, I never had nickname. I was just Henry Todd from Texas. I got one now. You can call me, Inferno. And I'm going to kill you."


	3. Chapter 3

3. The Sound of Fire

The small and shady establishment of the Devil May Cry agency has never attracted much attention. It's foreboding exterior was expressly designed to keep the unwanted away. The only real contact that was ever made with the outside from within was via phone. Even then, a password system makes sure that conversations are short. If you don't say the magic word you get the hook. Right now the phone was off the hook and disconnected. Dante didn't want any callers, rare though they are. In his dimly lit room, he tossed his Harley Davidson emblazoned shower towel onto the bed. It landed beside his now cindered crimson leather coat. Dante stared at it.

"Asshole ruined my coat."

Digging into his limited wardrobe, Dante extracted a pair of diesel jeans and an army green jacket to cover his casual black shirt. Without the benefit of a coat his sword and guns would have to go in plain sight. However that didn't matter much. Nothing was going to come between him and getting Henry Todd, Inferno. Stepping out into the alley behind his agency, Dante's bike awaited him. The sound of its motor was music to his hears. With the engine roaring he rode off into the main street. Dante drove up the ramp that connected to the express way heading south, out of the city. He knew that Inferno would come after him. He may not know the particulars, but a merc is a merc, and this merc's job was to take him out. When he comes hunting for him, he'd rather not involve anyone. Too much collateral damage like at the bar. The safest thing to do is to head out of the city and wait for him to show up. After that, it was just a matter of killing him.

As the lights of the oncoming traffic in the opposite lane glared into his eyes, Dante was reminded of the blue light which hit him before. As a half devil he had never been hurt by fire before. While the blue meant that the fire was extremely hot, it was still just fire. Or was it? The only fire that could possibly hurt him was blue hellfire. That kind of fire could only be found in the deepest recesses of hell. It burned in a place where only the Devil himself could bear to stand. How the did Inferno get a hold of it, Dante asked himself. Could the Devil be so desperate that he cut a deal with a two bit merc to reel him in? It was the most likely answer. It was one that he would enjoy squeezing out of Inferno, personally.

Traffic on the express way was light. After all, it was late at night, soon to be early in the morning. Behind him Dante could see a few cars trailing behind him. Ahead of him was a large trailer truck marked "Dasani" Purified Water. Dante was ready to pass the truck when he saw something catch his eye on top of the trailer.

"Hey there Devil Merc!" Inferno hollered from atop the trailer. "Let's play catch!" Inferno began once more with his fireballs and launched them in Dante's direction.

Only with great precision was Dante able to avoid them. Very soon, Inferno began to throw his fires not only at Dante but at other as well. He was baiting him. A fiery blue ball rocketed at a nearby pickup and sent it flying into the air. Dante could see its two occupants, a woman and her son.

"Shit!" Dante cursed Inferno's name and forced his bike to a screeching halt. Looking back the headlights of the car behind him were upon him. The car bumped him and sent him forward. Looking upwards, the pickup was still in mid air but had begun its descent. Leaping from his seat Dante felt a different sort of fire overwhelm him, his own hellfire as he transformed into his devil form. Wingspread wide he soared upwards and rammed into the roof of the upside down pickup. His clawed hands ripped a hole and he reached in and grabbed the two occupants inside. Moving out of the way, he allowed the pickup to crash. His wings slowed his descent onto the roadside. The woman was crying hysterically and checking her son for injuries. The young boy looked into Dante's fiery eyes.

"Mom, it's the Human Torch." The boy said pointing at him.

The mother stared at Dante fearfully. The fact that he resumed his human form did not seem to help matters. Shaking his head Dante addressed the mother. "You kid isn't reading enough comics. I'm not the Human Torch." Dante winked and ran for his bike.

Dante could still see Inferno in the distance and the trail of destruction he was leaving in his path. A construction sign rushed past him as he drove on ahead. Dante revved his engine and his bike responded by gaining speed. Inferno was still poised atop the trailer truck literally raising hell. Ahead of the truck to the right Dante eyed a flat bed construction truck with a fork ramp. At full speed Dante launched his bike up the ramp and into the air. With his forward wheel inclined, he directed the bike and landed on top of the trailer. He also managed to land on top of Inferno. Dante looked downwards at the pinned Inferno underneath his bike.

"You know what I hate, Inferno? Roadkill."

With the bike's rear tire positioned over Inferno's face, Dante accelerated. Inferno screamed as the tire at first scorched then ripped the skin from his face. The skull underneath however proved to coated in the same blue hell fire that had struck Dante before. The flame touched Dante's gas tanks and the resulting explosion combined with the trucks forward motion flung Dante backwards. Inferno rose from the debris of the extinct bike and walked to the back edge of the trailer. There he found Dante dangling with one hand on a horizontal bar. Ripping the remaining flesh from his skull, Dante could still recognize his signature grin. A scream sent both of them looking for the source. Jumping from the side of the truck was a lone figure. It was the driver.

"Looks like the captain jumped ship. Why don't you join him?"

Inferno placed his palm over Dante hand. At first only smoke was visible but slowly droplets of blood began to pour from his hand. Dante finally did something that he rarely did, he screamed. His hand released the bar and he fell downwards. His hand reached out and grabbed a bar on the lower edge of the trailer. His body however was touching the road and he felt the street ripping at his clothes. With both hands clasping the bar, Dante turned face up so that his back was to the road. With all his strength he kicked backwards and launched his body so that it lay flat against the back of the trailer. Like a spider, he crawled underneath the truck and out of Inferno's view. Beneath the trailer, Dante made his way to the truck and came up the side and into the driver seat. Everything that he wanted to avoid had unfortunately happened. With total disregard for the lives of innocents, Inferno attacked him in public a second time. That was going to cost the cold hearted merc, even if it was the last thing he did. Jamming his foot onto the accelerator Dante took the truck off the expressway. He had already caused enough damage there. As reluctant as he was, he was going to take his chances in the city. Shooting a quick glance into the rear view mirror, he could still see Inferno's blue glow atop the trailer. Luckily enough the streets were still empty. The truck came down the off ramp at full speed with nothing to stop it. Suddenly Inferno's flamed arm crashed through the driver side window and grabbed hold of the steering wheel. Instantly it became to hot for Dante to hold onto.

"You know what? I always wanted to crash one of these, ever since I was a kid."

Jerking the steering wheel abruptly to the right the truck toppled over. Dante was now looking at the road ahead sideways almost at the street level and Inferno was now riding the truck on top of him. The momentum kept the truck moving forward. Straight ahead Dante could see the gas pumps of a 7-11. Inferno seemingly disappeared and Dante took this chance to climb up out of the driver's seat. He leapt from the truck just as it hit the pumps. Dante felt the blast on his back. This time, Dante landed on his feet. He turned and saw that the flames were engulfing the truck. The trailer had exploded as well and had sent all the water bottles inside flying all over. Dante scanned the streets.

"Still empty," he mused to himself. Then he caught a two figures standing on the sidewalk across from the 7-11 which was now in flames. One was the store manager, obviously in an uproar that his place was in flames. From the plastic bag in his hand the man to his right seemed to be a patron. Dante heard him speak.

"Dios mio."

My God.

There was something that caught his eye about the man but his mind was too hyped from the moment in the truck. He couldn't place it. Then it hit him. Inferno hit Dante across the back of his head, surprisingly not with flames. Dante turned and faced him.

"You knew what we were walking into all those years ago. But you didn't tell us anything. Why?" Inferno asked as he blew hot flames directed at Dante's face. Once more he became light headed and his vision blurred.

"Do you know what happened to me when I died? I woke up in hell, literally. Imagine my surprise that all that shit my mom told me when I was a kid was true. You know, be good or else Santa won't bring you toys. Be good or you'll go to hell. Shit like that." Inferno grabbed Dante by the collar and punched him. "Time works differently in hell. It always feels like yesterday, and tomorrow is always far away. You exist in the moment. And guess what? The here and now feels like an eternity when you're getting eaten by demons 24/7. I don't know how long I was down there, years, decades, or even centuries. The thing is, I finally remembered something about the moment before I died. You were face to face with that other demon, and you told him 'tell them Dante sent you.' Big mistake. You may not have been talking to me, but I told them you sent me there.

Holding Dante's head between his hands, Inferno butted his head against his and sent him to the ground. He then picked him up and readied his fist to punch him once more.

"The big guy downstairs was amused. You know what was even funnier. He offered me the chance to get even. He gave me these nifty powers that are so kicking your ass. Apparently he has an idea that the 'Son of Sparda' would make a good delicacy. So he charges me with importing you. I will do that momentarily when I rip your devil heart out of your half breed chest. First, I want to know something."

Inferno's fist burst into flames and slammed into Dante's side.

"You led us right into that demon's nest and you didn't warn us. I want to know why before I send you to hell. Why did you turn us in?"

His blood was streaming down from his lips. Dante managed to gather enough saliva and blood to spit at Inferno's flaming skull.

"Every job I took as a mercenary, I took for a reason. I never cared about people's wars or politics. I never took those kinds of jobs. I only took ones where I knew a devil was behind it. You and the others, you would have napalmed that village if that demon hadn't been there. Women, children, and all, you would have killed them. That makes you just as bad as the devil I went to kill. And you know what, I was right. You died and woke up in hell. That's where you belong you psychotic bastard."

"Really? Well guess what? You're joining me this time!" Raising him above himself with both hands, Inferno threw Dante to the floor.

Lying face down Dante cocked his head upwards and saw the 7-11 patron still standing, motionless. It hit Dante again, but this time it wasn't one of Inferno's blows. Dante's hand reached out and clasped a nearby tubular object. With his other hand he began to crawl forwards. Inferno patiently followed him.

"Where are you going, Dante? You got a hot date or something?" Inferno broke into laughter. "Oh no, the only hot one you got waiting for you is in hell. HELL! You hear me!" Inferno looked up from Dante and saw that he had stopped at the feet of an old man standing on the sidewalk.

"What, you think this guy is going to save you?" Inferno chided.

Dante looked up at the man and outstretched his hand to the old man. "Bendiga esta aqua, Padre."

"You speak Japanese Dante? I never knew?" Inferno's laughter continued until he saw the old man's collar. The old man had a white plastic collar.

Dante turned and at up. In his left hand he held his trusty pistol Ebony, in his right, a bottle of Dasani.

"He's a Spanish priest, asshole. And he just turned this into Holy Water." Dante tossed the bottle at Inferno and shattered it with a bullet. The water splashed onto Inferno and extinguished the flames that had engulfed his skull. Dante could see Henry Todd's face once more. He was no longer grinning. Dante jumped to his feet and thrust his fist into Inferno's face and sent him flying backwards. When Inferno landed he was unconscious and the flames engulfing his body were extinguished. Dante turned to the priest.

"Gracias, Padre."

"Vaya con Dios!" he hollered after him as he walked away.

"Yo si, pero este se va para el carajo." Dante answered back.

Dante stood above Inferno who was just now opening his eyes. Dante took the precaution of dousing his whole body with more holy water compliments of the Spanish priest.

"Wha…?"

Dante stared into Henry Todd aka Inferno's eyes. "Hey Inferno, I hear James Brown playing. It's a man's world. And I am the man."

The streets then echoed with the sound of fire, gunfire.

FIN


End file.
